Demon Hunter
by Althea SaDiablo
Summary: AU. The capital has always been peaceful, free of the demons that plague the rest of Saiunkoku, but no longer. The battle for the throne has been joined. But Ryuuki has been waiting five years for his brother's return, and it's been five years too long...
1. A Single Step

Author's Note: This is the first chapter of an AU fic that I've been writing for quite a long time now. The scope is definately epic-- I'm at more than 30,000 words on the main part of the story and it isn't anywhere close to finished yet. Right now I have three major arcs plotted out in my head. We'll see if they ever make it to the page . . . but this is where everything starts. The setting for Demon Hunter is similar to that of the canon continuity, but the major difference is a greater preponderance of magic and supernatural events. Ghosts, magic swords, demons, mystical abilities . . . all of these things are part of the world of Saiunkoku. In this story, they have a much greater relevance to the main plot.

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Ryuuki checked the leather wrappings that obscured the rich, distinctive ornamentation of Kanshou and Bakuya one last time, making sure that the cords that bound them were tight. Satisfied that they wouldn't be recognized, he slung them across his back so that they formed an X, securing the straps across his narrow chest. The dark bands hardly contrasted with the somewhat oversized peasant's clothing he had dug out of a dusty, forgotten corner of the storerooms. The cloth smelled musty and felt strangely close and confining against his skin, since he was used to skirted robes and long, hanging sleeves, but the outfit was as sturdy and unobtrusive as he could possibly wish.

The swords were the most important thing, in any case. Beyond that, he had only brought a few meager belongings in a small pack: a waterskin and food from the kitchens, his comb, an extra pair of shoes, a book that Shouka had given him, a small scroll bearing a portrait of his older brother the second prince, a few maps he had stolen from the archives. Ryuuki felt guilty about the maps and had left an apologetic note where he knew it would be found, whenever Shouka came back to the palace again. The youngest prince hadn't seen the archivist in a while, and worried about his safety in chaos of the city down below. Ryuuki's attempts at eavesdropping on the palace orderlies had yielded only hazy and conflicting rumors. He didn't like to go near the Tower of the Sages, since it made him sick and gave him a raging headache every time he got close to it, but it was the only place where he could get a decent view of the city. Concern had prompted him to brave the ascent a few times, though, and he had battled the nausea and the pain to track the fires he could occasionally see raging in the city beyond the palace walls. He wanted to wait, and make sure that Shouka was safe . . .

But urgency tugged at him, insistent. He had waited for years, waited until he had grown up enough to leave, and it was more than long enough. The worsening state of the capital and the courts just made him more determined. It seemed like everything was crumbling around him, little by little, until the very ground beneath his feet was unstable. He could feel the problem in his bones-- the center was dropping out of his world. He could only think of one person who could put the palace back into order, one person who was fit to take up the reins of the country and become the ailing Emperor's heir.

Ever since Shouka had told him of his brother's exile, his heart had yearned to be reunited with his older brother once again. Sometimes it seemed like Seien was just beyond the walls, and that any moment he would surely return, and Ryuuki's loneliness would end. But as the years passed, so slowly, he had realized the impossibility of that dream. There was no way that Seien could break his exile and return unless he were recalled by the Emperor himself. And with time Ryuuki's dream had changed: if Seien could not come to the palace, then Ryuuki would go to him. If they were together, nothing could stop them. They could return, and Seien would take up his proper place again. And everything would be made right again.

Or maybe they wouldn't return. That thought sent a shiver of happiness through Ryuuki, guilty but undeniable. Why did they have to come back to the palace, after all? When every corner just brought up memories of abuse and suffering? When the lurking ghosts stared at him with their cold eyes, hungry and hateful? There was no need, no reason to come back to this unstable and haunted place. Surely the whole kingdom was open to them. He would find Seien, and then they could travel together . . . live free, just the two of them . . .

His imagination furnished the dream with all the adventures and mysteries that Shouka sometimes told him stories of, and a thrill of anticipation tightened his stomach. It would be wonderful. Together, he and his brother could do anything.

But first he would have to find Seien. Learning the location of his exile hadn't been difficult, since it was a matter of Imperial record. And while it had been disheartening to learn that the second prince had disappeared somewhere along the way and no one had heard from him since, Ryuuki had no doubt that Seien was still alive. He would have known if something had happened to his brother. Even with all the distance that separated them, he would know. Ryuuki was confident that he could find Seien. All he would have to do was travel to the last waystation where the second prince had been reported, out on the border of Sa Province, and then start his search from there.

He secured the bundle on his back, then tested the ties on the swords and jumped in place a few times to make sure all was secure. Then he checked the money he had sewn into the hems of his clothing (that theft he certainly didn't feel bad about, not when his other brothers made so free with the treasury themselves), and the Ran family travel pass he had appropriated from an insufficiently cautious clan merchant who had come to the palace recently. Satisfied at last, he blew out the candle that illuminated the room.

The sudden darkness that enveloped him seemed to have a physical, choking presence, but he thought of his second older brother and battled down his terror. There were no clawing hands reaching for him in the darkness, and he felt no chill in the air, heard no sibilant whispers. If he was going to find Seien, he couldn't let his childish fears hold him back. The gardens outside the room proved empty of all presences, natural or otherwise, and he felt calmer. The palace was quiet tonight. He remembered how Seien had often found him hiding among the trees and brought him inside, into the light and warmth, banishing the dangers and terrors that lurked everywhere with the security of his presence.

_This time, I'm going to find you._

It was harder to climb the tree he had selected in the gardens than it had been without his heavy burdens, but he managed with a grunt, and from its branches pulled himself onto one of the roofed corridors that snaked through the grounds. From there it was simple enough to move to the roofs, and then the outer wall. None of the palace's ghostly residents had ever appeared on the broad yellow tiles that protected the buildings, and so despite their fierce-looking pottery guardians Ryuuki preferred to use them as his own personal pathway through the Palace grounds. Statues had never bothered him, after all, but the other denizens of the palace were a different matter. Guards patrolled here and there on the grounds below, but their lanterns made them easy to spot. And besides, their attention was directed outwards, against intruders trying to sneak in: they had no reason to think that someone would try to sneak _out_.

Ryuuki paused briefly on the outer edge of the grounds, his body snug against a sheltering roof tree, and looked back. The inner palace buildings gleamed faintly in the thready starlight, with the looming Tower of the Sages rising above the complex. He swallowed, scared at this last instant to leave behind the only world he knew for the larger, frightening one he had never seen.

He reminded himself that his brother was waiting, somewhere out there, then swung himself down from the roof and into the streets below.


	2. Leaving the Capital

Author's Note: Wow. Um, my apologies, everyone. I didn't realize that this never got posted. I actually finished this ages and ages ago . . . if not for the review I received the other day, I never would have even realized.

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Ryuuki tucked his body more tightly into the hollow of the tree's roots, trying to shift so that the two swords he carried weren't digging into his back quite so painfully, careful not to make the slightest sound. It had been two weeks since he'd climbed over the high walls of the palace and stolen through the streets of the dark capital. The city was unfamiliar to him, but despite that he could tell that the situation in the palace had taken its toll. He had to skirt a swath of several city blocks that had been damaged by fire, and once or twice he came across unmoving bodies lying abandoned on the sides of the street. There had been other people about in the night, but despite his curiosity he had hidden from anyone he saw, feeling like a ghost as he moved silently through the streets.

There were certainly plenty of those around, although they were not so dense a presence as the ones that haunted the palace. They took no interest in him, at least, and he kept his eyes averted when he encountered them, not wanting them to change their minds if they noticed that he could see them. That was the hardest part, actually. It seemed like it took a long time, but his memory of the layout of the city streets was good, and at last he was at the high wall that marked the limits of the city. The gates were shut, but he had slipped past a nodding guard in patched armor and wormed soundlessly through the postern without being noticed.

When dawn had come he was well outside the city, with the rising sun casting his shadow long and skinny before him. By then his proud strides had decreased to a limp, and from there to a footsore hobble. It wasn't even noon before he had to stop, dropping exhausted into what cover he could find, his eyes closing almost before he hit the ground. When he woke up again hours later, just standing up felt like the hardest thing he had ever done. His pack and the swords seemed to get heavier with every step, pulling unendingly downwards against his aching shoulders. He rounded them in mute, stubborn opposition to the burden and trudged onwards.

The road westward from the capital was a fairly busy one, and he had tried to avoid those who traveled it as much as he could. After a while, though, he'd wondered if it was really necessary, since he felt so dirty and caked with road dust that he figured other people would surely be avoiding him. At first he had hidden when he heard the hoof-beats of fast-moving horses that generally heralded army scouts or messengers, but none of them ever stopped or even slowed down at the sight of his stooped, strangely-burdened and road-weary self. A near miss taught him that he had better make way, because no one was going to make way for him.

He'd thought a lot about how his trip to find his brother would be, but he'd never thought that it would be so . . . well, hard. Physical exertion was of course familiar, and the exhaustion that followed it-- that he'd learned during his sword lessons with General Sou. His brothers had made sure that he was no stranger to pain, and the haunts of the palace had introduced him to more than his fair share of pure terror. But now he had to eat the same thing every day, and he'd never realized just how boring it was. Or how bumpy and unpleasant the ground was for sleeping, even when he managed to find some grass or leaves to curl up on. Or how much he missed just being clean-- he'd had a boy's casual scorn for baths when he'd lived in the palace, but now he longed for a chance to scrub the dirt out of his hair, and why had he not thought to bring soap? He could buy it, maybe, but where did you even buy soap?

But maybe it was for the best right now if he smelled like nothing but road dirt. He tried to still his breathing, quiet the pounding of his heart. He didn't know what he was hiding from, exactly-- or even _why_ he was hiding. But something had told him that there was danger coming, something stronger than instinct or feeling. Something had impressed on his mind the urgency of finding a hiding place and staying there. It was not long after sunrise, and he had been soundly asleep-- and then abruptly he had been awake, with the knowledge that danger was nearby, and getting closer.

The fold in the tree trunk's twisted roots concealed him, though it was a tight fit with the swords. He had hastily grabbed everything from his small camp, thankful that there wasn't much to grab, and that the summer's heat was such that he hadn't bothered to try making a fire. It had been dark, but in the woods some distance from the road there were no ghosts lurking, and there had been enough moonlight that he hadn't felt the need to banish the pressing night. Now the sky was grey through the branches of the trees, but the forest floor was still gloomy, almost physically so, combining with the heat to choke him. And there was a strange smell in the air, something he'd never encountered before-- somehow both spicy and faintly foul, with an underlying whiff of decay. The forest had gone unnaturally silent, and he heard something approaching, the faint rustle of leaves and underbrush as some creature pushed through.

And then he could see it. At first glance it was an animal, about the size of a dog-- but no dog Ryuuki had ever seen had such a thinly tapered muzzle ringed with jagged needle-pointed teeth. Dogs had four legs, not six; they had fur, not patchy scales. They didn't have hooked talons, like birds, or bare, whipping ratlike tails, or jointed body segments like an insect's carapace. And they didn't have eyes like that-- large saucer-eyes, golden with strangely shaped pupils of indigo, set on the sides of the monster's head and moving entirely independent of each other.

The smell became suddenly worse with the creature in sight, but it was those horrific eyes that had Ryuuki swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat. The sense of wrongness that they gave him was so pervasive it sent goosebumps shivering all over his body, had his toes curling in protest within his shoes. It was a horror alike and yet different from the creeping, silent fear that the ghosts he saw brought with them. Somehow this creature's existence seemed an affront to the woods through which it snuffled and prowled, an outrage to the world itself.

i_Ravager_/i. The word appeared in his head in an instant, like the impact of a raindrop on the surface of a still pond, and he knew it was the monster's name without knowing how he knew. He could not wonder at the sudden inexplicable onset of that knowledge, though-- all of his attention, every one of his senses was focused on the monster stalking through the woods before him, and its wet breathing as it nosed among the leaves.

It seemed like an eternity until it gave up on the small clearing and trotted in a strange, oily rolling gait away into the forest, but it was even longer before Ryuuki could get himself to emerge from the protective hollow of the tree roots and back into the open again. By then the morning light was slanting through the trees, banishing some of the gloom. It wasn't enough to banish the unsettling knowledge of the ravager's passing, though. Ryuuki returned to the road with haste and stayed closer to it the following night, though between fears both old and new-found he didn't sleep well. He slept with the scroll bearing his brother's portrait clutched to his chest, and both swords unsheathed on the ground beside him.


	3. Learning Experience

**Author's Note:** Yes, it has been a stupidly long time since I updated this fic. And I have no good excuses as to the reason. But, um. I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless?

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Ryuuki was another week of walking from the capital when his food supply started to give out. By then he was accustomed to the mind-numbing routine of the road and the rigors of travel. Likewise, the strange mental prodding he felt when danger approached had become a friend, one he was grateful for. It had warned him of other strange creatures on more than one occasion, and strangely enough identified them by name.

The last time it had happened, he had recognized the name from one of Shouka's accounts, and the knowledge went through him like a thunderbolt- _demo_ns. These fey, uncanny creatures with their distorted limbs and bodies that defied his inner sense of logic . . . they were the demons he had heard mentioned in so many stories. They were the monsters of the tales his older brothers had gleefully terrified him with.

_Demo__n__-spaw__n_.

That hated name- because of that, it was a little surprising he hadn't realized earlier. However disparate their forms, each of the creatures had one thing in common. Each had eyes of precisely the same golden shade.

_Just like mine_, he thought, crouched over the still inlet of a small stream and staring at his wavering reflection. A stray beam of light illuminated his eyes, so that they seemed to glow while the rest of his face was thrown into darkness. He shivered convulsively and hastily splashed water on his face, breaking his image into a thousand pieces on the resulting waves. The stream felt blessedly cool on his hot, dusty skin, and helped to banish the slightly sick twist that particular realization left in his gut.

Now that he was taking a moment from his endless trudging down the west-bound road, he actually had a chance to appreciate his surroundings. This calm little bend in the stream was bracketed by a vibrant overgrowth of bright green reeds, their thin leaves rustling in unison under the pressure of a gentle summer breeze. A stand of thick trees separated the stream from the dusty road, and the deep shadows they threw reminded him of the dark emeralds he had once seen one of the court officials of the Heki clan wear. Insects were singing in the tall grasses, and he caught the bright flash of an azure dragonfly darting among their tufted finials. Farther out a large, lazy body glided under the surface of the water- a fish, following the current.

Right on cue his stomach rumbled loudly. He rubbed his middle ruefully- he didn't have much left to put in it. There was no help for it, he was going to have to go shopping.

**xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx**

The next day found him crouching warily in the shadow of a mud-and-wattle wall, watching the open market in progress in the square. Tables had been set up under shading awnings, selling a bewildering variety of produce, livestock, craft items, tools, goods, clothing, odds and ends- things Ryuuki didn't even have names for. It was alive with people, too- farmers toting baskets, middle-aged women haggling for groceries, young ladies swarming and giggling around a table of accessories, a gaggle of young children playing tag around the legs of the shoppers. Ryuuki eyed them warily- some of them were about his size- but they were too absorbed in their game to notice him. And anyway, he had other things to worry about.

He clutched the heavy gold coin he'd pried free from the seam of his waistband in nervous fingers. It was a long, flat oval, almost the size of his palm, and the cold metal had warmed from contact with his skin. But he'd never bought anything in his life, whereas everyone else he saw seemed to know exactly what they were doing. His empty stomach was very persuasive, though. Despite his fear, he would act.

He had chosen his first experiment carefully, a heavyset woman who ran a stall full of miscellaneous foodstuffs and household items. She seemed approachable, with a face made for frowning that still managed to bear the imprint of smiles, small eyes disappearing behind her cheeks. Her arms seemed strong and sturdy, and she wore a patched apron over her townswoman's clothes. It all spoke of security to Ryuuki's mind, perhaps because she was completely different from anyone he'd ever encountered during his precarious life. Moreover, a small boy, younger than himself, was playing contentedly in the dust near her feet, stacking walnut shells.

Ryuuki tried to look tall and proficient as he walked up to the stall- as opposed to small, grubby, and unsure, which was how he felt. He tested one of the green pumpkins there by rapping on it with his knuckles the way he'd seen one of the previous customers do, but he had no idea what the sound was supposed to tell him. He could feel the woman's eyes on him as he picked out a few vegetables, a cluster of marbled eggs tied up in twisted straw, and a double handful of the walnuts. He tried not to look either too nervous or too hungry as she tallied them, and when she quoted the price, put his coin on the board with what he thought was a good imitation of the last buyer's casual confidence.

The woman's eyes went comically wide. "I can't take that!"

"You can't?" Ryuuki felt his stomach drop, dismayed. "But it's enough . . ."

"Of course it's enough . . . that's gold, isn't it? A full gold _liang_!" The woman picked it up as if she couldn't quite believe it, then quickly put it down again. "It's too much, that's the problem. I can't change that! Where did a kid like you get something like that?"

"My father gave it to me," Ryuuki said numbly. It wasn't exactly a lie. But . . . his money was no good? What was he going to do? "But it's all I have . . ."

"Here, kid, take it back. Quickly, now, don't flash it around. Look . . ." the woman's rough hands folded his fingers around the heavy metal. "You need to take that to a money changer, see? Not the Guild, they'll think you're a thief for sure. Take it to Gao- he sets up near the livestock pens. Long white mustache, you can't miss him. But don't let him cheat you, mind! Then run along back- I'll put these aside for you."

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Ryuuki was probably hungrier than he'd ever been since Shouka had started looking after him. It gave him the courage to march directly up to the wizen, wrinkled man who sat at the money-changer's table under the spreading branches of a great tree. The old man flicked the beads of his abacus back and forth with long fingernails, the quickness of his movements stirring the trailing ends of his whispy white mustache.

"I need change," Ryuuki announced boldly, though he felt somewhat ridiculous standing with his strange burden of crossed swords so near the loud commotion of the cattle pens.

The old man wrinkled his long nose. "A bath would be a good place to start," he suggested. "One involving soap."

"Soap costs _money_," Ryuuki imparted this new-found wisdom with what he considered a pretty fair impression of imperial dignity.

"So I've heard," Gao the money-changer said, "but I'm afraid I'm not in the philanthropy business."

"But you are in the money business."

"I deal with people who have money, not people who need soap." Gao dismissed Ryuuki with a wave of his fingernails. "Be off with you."

"I have money!" Ryuuki protested indignantly.

"Then why haven't you used it to buy soap?" The money-changer gave him a disapproving look down his nose. "_Really_, boy."

Ryuuki thunked his gold _liang _down on the surface of Gao's table. "I have too_ much_money, that's the problem."

Gao's eyes went wide, and he scratched one fingernail over the bright metal. "So you do," he managed finally. "Well, _that_I can help you with."

His fingers flew over the abacus and flicked the worn, polished beads up and down. Ryuuki tried to keep track of the sums and equations Gao was carrying out as he converted the _liang_to smaller coins, but was soon completely lost.

"Right, then," Gao said briskly, and opened the lid of his money box to take out two strings of silver coins and one of copper. "There's your change, boy."

Ryuuki reached out eagerly for the money, but found himself pausing mid-motion, arrested by a feeling of such strength if could not be denied. Even though he knew instinctively that it didn't originate from his own mind.

_Not enough._

"It's not enough," he repeated, almost questioning.

Gao's impressive and wispy eyebrows rose. "What was that, boy?"

The feeling of certainty rose once more. "It's not enough," he said again, more boldly.

"Nonsense, boy, you saw me do the calculations. This is what you're due."

"Do them again," Ryuuki said stubbornly.

The money-changer shook his head, as if resigned to the follies of youth. "Once more, then."

Once more his hands flickered over the abacus, and Ryuuki watched and tried to follow, but the numbers came too fast, and once he'd lost track he couldn't find his place again-

_There._

Ryuuki's hand shot out on its own and stopped the beads in mid-flick. "There, right there."

Gao sputtered. "Boy, what-"

"It should be four, here. Not two," he said with absolute certainty; a certainty which had no basis in his own observations.

Gao considered him. "Hmm," he said. "My, my. I do believe you're right. It is four, indeed. My fingers must have slipped."

He added two more strings of coins to the collection atop his table, and Ryuuki counted them in his head, almost expecting the strange internal prodding when it came. "It's still not enough."

The money-changer sat back on his stool and rolled the gold _liang_between his fingers. "You're right, it's not," he said laconically. "But it's the best you're going to get unless you go to the Guild, and they'll ask you questions that I don't think you'll want to answer. Take what you've got, boy. I haven't paid out this much to anyone since before you were born- consider it a reward for your quick eye on the beads. Either that or your desperate need for soap has actually moved me to charity-" he grinned, "-but I doubt it."

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The shopkeeper was as good as her word, and had Ryuuki's purchases waiting for him when he came back, dustier than ever, and hungrier, but triumphant. She had even added a few items that Ryuuki hadn't thought to pick out, and a warm packet of folded leaves tied in string that Ryuuki identified by scent as holding the sweet, sticky rice he'd once tried with Shouka.

"Thank you," Ryuuki said awkwardly as he paid her, not certain what to do when she added an extra handful of chestnuts to all the rest. He decided to try a compliment. "Your son is very cute."

"Son?" The woman's eyebrows went up. "I have no son."

"You don't? Then who is-" Ryuuki's eyes went to the boy stacking his shells in the dust at the roadside.

"I had a boy," the woman said, staring at Ryuuki. "He died. My boy was killed-"

The boy looked up at Ryuuki and smiled, and his teeth were big and square and all wrong in his little boy's mouth.

"-trampled in the road by-"

"He loves- must have loved- you. Very much, very-" Ryuuki's throat was dry, and he swallowed hard, his eyes on the ghost. He caught out of the corner of his eye the woman's expression, her hands starting to form the gesture to ward off demons. "I've got to go, I-"

He grabbed the rest of his parcels and ran.

**xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx**

That night, his stomach filled for the first time in days, Ryuuki built up the fire and carefully began to undo the wrappings on the hilts and sheathes of the swords. He laid them out on his blanket, and the leaping firelight gleamed in the gold fittings, danced in the depths of the polished saphires set there.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he addressed them, and somehow it wasn't at all strange to be speaking to a pair of swords. "Back there in town, with the money-changer. And- before that. Those times with the- the demons. You warned me. You told me what they were."

The swords were silent, just a pair of swords. Deadly but beautiful. The treasures of an empire. He reached out and touched an ebony sheath, an ivory hilt- _Kanshou_, he heard his brother's voice in his memory. The Zenith Sword. His brother's blade, the sword known as Heaven's Fury.

And- he picked up the other sword, ivory sheath and ebon grip. _Bakuya_. The Steel Eclipse. The sword called Heaven's Tears. His brother's gift, his treasure. _She will protect you._

He stood up and unsheathed the sword, moved through one of the exercises General Sou had taught him. It was both harder and easier than he remembered- he had not done it for a while, but he knew at the same time that despite the lean diet his journey was making him stronger.

But from the swords he felt nothing at all.

When he finally stopped he was panting and sweaty. He cleaned both swords meticulously, re-wrapping hilts and sheathes and finally checking the draw on each, as his brother had taught him.

_I'm coming, Aniue_.

Then he went to bed. It had been a very long day. _Tomorrow,_ he thought to himself, _a bath._

_With soap_, something whispered in his mind, but he was already asleep.


End file.
